C.D
8 Published Stories
C.D's Books and Stories
He Betrayed Me, Now He Begs
Mafia For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party." The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle
Billionaires I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me.
Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years.
The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought.
I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction.
With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun. His Wife's Secret, His Burning Rage
Romance For six months, I clung to the belief my wife, Sophia, was in Europe saving her family's struggling hospital-the one I' d poured my career into.
Then she came home, stepping out of the car beaming, but not alone; her personal assistant, Mark, was with her, pulling her luggage.
"I have something wonderful to tell you," she chirped, taking my hand, her eyes betraying a nervous flutter.
"I'm pregnant," she announced, placing a protective hand on her stomach.
My heart soared until her gaze shifted to Mark, and she added, "It's not yours."
The world spun. My wife, pregnant with another man's child, stood before me in my home.
"I'm three months along," she offered, clinically.
Before the shock could fully register, she brazenly declared, "I need you. The baby has a congenital heart defect. A procedure only you perfected."
She wanted me to save her lover's child. I was a surgeon, not a pawn.
"No," I choked out, but her mask crumbled, revealing a ruthless stranger.
"You will. Or I'll divorce you, tell the world you refused to save an innocent child, ruin your reputation, and destroy the hospital you built."
Then, a chilling memory resurfaced: our miscarriage, years ago. Sophia had been oddly dismissive then, saying, "It was just a bunch of cells. Don't be so dramatic."
Now, overhearing her on the phone with Mark, it clicked: "I'm not going to do something stupid like go jet-skiing just to show off for you again. We learned our lesson, didn't we?"
Jet-skiing. She' d been eight weeks pregnant with our child then. She' d risked our baby' s life to impress him.
My child hadn't been an accident; it had been a calculated choice. The love I felt for her vanished, replaced by a cold, hard resolve.
I would do the surgery. But the moment that child was stable, I would burn our lives to the ground and walk away. The Woman He Threw Away
Romance For ten years, Liam was my world.
I was the silent force behind Aegis, his tech empire, turning a garage startup into a titan on the brink of its IPO.
Every all-nighter, every neutralized threat, every high-stakes deal – I was there, a ghost in the shadows, believing his promise: "Once Aegis goes public, Ava… I' ll make you my wife."
But tonight, at the pre-IPO celebration, I overheard him.
He called me a "loyal old dog," suitable only for a "generous severance package," while declaring his intention to marry "pure, clean" Chloe.
My world shattered. The man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for, saw me as something disposable, a liability from a past he wanted to bury.
He said Chloe was the "prize at the top," and I was merely a "partner for the climb."
The ultimate betrayal, a decade of my life reduced to a job, my loyalty deemed an investment he' d now pay out with calculated interest.
I walked through hell for him, taking bullets and doing his dirty work so his hands could stay "clean," only to be cast aside for being "unclean" myself.
Then, he was kidnapped. And even after he threw me away like trash, I walked into a den of armed killers, taking two bullets for him, just to cut the final ties.
He ran straight to his new love, leaving me bleeding on the cold concrete.
Now, he' s back, crawling, begging for forgiveness and offering me everything-his company, his name, his future-because his "prize" betrayed him.
But I'm not a trophy to be won back. He shattered me, and I refuse to be pieced back together for his convenience.
My past is a battlefield, my scars are my resume, and this time, I choose myself. Heart's Sorrow Unboxed
Romance The world slammed back into me in a dizzying rush. One moment, oblivion. The next, I was back in a familiar bed, the sun warm, the scent of roses faint.
My heart seized at the June 12th calendar-the day it all began to unravel in my first life, the day before Richard announced he was funneling our savings into his first love' s art gallery.
Then he walked in, handsome and dismissive, still my husband, yet a stranger. The sight of him brought nothing but a hollow echo.
I stood by the fireplace, a silent observer as Vivian Hayes, ethereal and artfully fragile, entered the room, captivating Richard with a tenderness he' d never shown me.
Later, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place: a beautifully wrapped gift, a silver hairpin "Heart' s Sorrow," a sketch Vivian had made, fumbled into my hands by a clearly distracted Richard.
My husband had handed me a gift meant for his artistic mistress, the one he had always loved more. The bitter taste of betrayal choked me.
This time, I closed the box and pushed it back across the table. "I think you' ve made a mistake," I said, my voice clear as a bell, shattering the forced cheer of the family dinner.
The silence was deafening, Margaret' s smile frozen, Richard' s jaw tight, Vivian' s face a mask of shock.
I placed my napkin on the table, the desire for divorce no longer a desperate plea, but a cold, final business decision.
"If you'll excuse me," I said, walking away from the stunned table, leaving behind the wreckage of a life I was no longer willing to live.
I was alive, I was back, and this time, I was going to rewrite my own story. Swamp Witch's Vengeance
Fantasy I used my bayou magic, a forbidden art that deals with life and death, to save Julian Thorne, a rising politician, sacrificing a piece of my own life force for his.
I poured everything into him, funding his comeback, turning my folk wisdom into his sharpest political instincts, enduring cheap noodles so he could dine with the powerful.
I thought I loved the man he could be, a man who was initially kind even to my disabled brother, Leo.
But when his political future was threatened, Julian ruthlessly betrayed us.
He framed Leo and me for drug dealing, sacrificing us to save his career and becoming a U.S. Senator.
Imprisoned, Leo suffered brutal injury from guards, losing his mind forever, leaving him with the cognitive function of a small child.
Julian then moved us into a gilded cage on his D.C. estate, marrying a socialite for power, always assuring me he was protecting us.
Years blurred until his cruel stepson, Thomas, brutally beat Leo to death for a trivial lie.
Julian and his wife, Isabelle, watched, then arranged for Leo' s small body to be disposed of like trash, covering up the murder without a thought.
The ultimate betrayal came when I overheard Julian' s security calling Leo' s death a "blessing in disguise," "one less loose end."
Every sacrifice, every drop of love, shattered into an icy shard.
The man I saved, the man I loved, saw my brother and me only as liabilities, disposable.
My heart, once full, turned to stone, not in grief, but in a cold, hard rage.
I was no longer a victim; I was a reckoning.
That night, at his grand political gala, I unleashed the full, untamed power of the bayou, plunging his world into chaos.
I secured Leo' s body, started a truck, and left, the gris-gris bag containing Julian' s life pulsing in my pocket.
The debt had begun to be repaid. Hidden Heir's Revenge
Modern I, Ethan, had one rule: make it on my own merits, no family help, despite my parents being Silicon Valley legends. For three years, I poured my soul into "Project Prometheus," a project meant to launch my career to new heights, all while planning a future with my fiancée, Chloe.
Then, a single LinkedIn notification shattered my world: Chloe's smirking intern, Leo, was taking credit for my project, my invaluable work.
When I confronted Chloe, she looked at me with tired annoyance, not guilt, casually dismissing it as "just a title" for Leo's career, before brazenly asking me to endorse his fake "contribution." My furious refusal only made things worse; suddenly, I was the subject of office whispers and Marcus, my director, inexplicably sided with Chloe, burying my name on the project and putting me on a death-sentence Performance Improvement Plan. Chloe publicly smeared me as "non-collaborative," then privately texted: "You lost."
How could the woman I planned to marry so casually steal my life's work, mock my integrity, and try to make me an accomplice in my own professional execution? The unfairness was a physical weight, suffocating me, watching them twist the truth while my irrefutable evidence was ignored. My integrity was utterly worthless against her malicious lies.
Backed into a corner, my reputation destroyed and career hanging by a thread, I finally made the call I swore I never would: "Mom, Dad," I choked out, "I tried to handle this myself, but I can't anymore. I need your help." The Kidney Donor and the Billionaire's Bride
Romance Ellie Miller existed on the fringes, working grueling shifts under humming fluorescent lights, a constant, phantom ache in her lower back a cruel reminder of the kidney she'd sacrificed.
Every dime earned from Chicago's greasy spoons vanished into impossible medical bills and her father’s crushing business debts.
Just when she thought despair was her only companion, a call from an unknown New York number pulled her back to a world she thought lost forever.
Margaret Nolan, a kind older woman from her past, was gravely ill and asking for her.
But this summons plunged Ellie into an abyss of cold disdain, orchestrated by Margaret’s powerful grandson, Ethan Nolan, and his icy, manipulative fiancée, Victoria.
Victoria, whose distant relative had received Ellie’s life-saving kidney, seized every opportunity to publicly humiliate her, painting her as a conniving opportunist.
The lavish Nolan mansion became a gilded cage of whispers and condescending stares, a stark contrast to Ellie's tattered reality.
The public torment climaxed brutally when loan sharks, relentless in their pursuit of her father’s old debts and her own manipulated medical loans, cornered her in a dark alley, leaving her beaten and utterly broken.
How could her selfless sacrifice, intended to bring relief, only drag her deeper into suffering and public shame?
Why did Ethan, the one who seemed capable of understanding, stubbornly believe Victoria’s venomous narrative, dismissing Ellie’s every desperate plea?
Trapped, defeated, and with nothing left to lose, Ellie made a desperate, terrifying choice.
She would orchestrate a final, shocking escape, letting the world believe she was gone forever, vanishing into the unknown to carve out a new existence free from her tormentors. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Married To The Comatose Mafia King
Benjamen Ernst I stood before the altar of the grand gothic cathedral, about to marry Julian Moretti, the grieving adopted son stepping up for the comatose Don.
To the hundreds of mafia men behind us, it was a dutiful wedding. But I knew the horrifying truth.
Julian and his pregnant mistress, Clara, had orchestrated a brutal plot to steal my dowry and secure his place as the next Don.
In my past life, I was completely blind to their betrayal. Julian trapped me in our apartment and set it ablaze.
I could still feel the blistering heat of the fire. I could still hear my mother’s agonizing screams and my little brother Antonio’s desperate coughing as the smoke filled our lungs.
My entire family was burned alive just so Julian could swap the brides and put his whore in my place.
I died in pure agony, filled with hatred and despair, wondering why I had trusted a monster.
God hadn't saved me from those flames. The Devil had.
And he sent me back to this exact moment at the altar.
"Do you, Isabella Rossi, take Julian Moretti to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the priest asked.
Julian reached for my hand with a sickeningly gentle smile.
I didn't give it to him. I tore back my lace veil and turned to face the crowd.
"You are mistaken, Father," I said, my voice like ice. "The man I am bound to marry is your Don. Damien Moretti." Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. Too Late, Mr. Capo: Your Wife Is Gone
Mo Yufei "Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk.
It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers.
Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience.
"Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps."
Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage.
I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again.
But saving her wasn't enough.
When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me.
I was wrong.
I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine.
"The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story."
He erased the truth. He erased my pain.
He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife.
Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison.
He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress.
He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place.
I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap.
"I hope she's worth it." The Syndicate's Ghost: Don's Forgotten Queen
Xiao Ye For four years, I was the grieving wife of a mafia Don, drowning in the memory of our dead son. My husband, Eli, held me through it all. But a trip to the records office on the anniversary of our son's death revealed a devastating truth.
He had another son. A secret family. Worse, I discovered he was with his mistress the day our son died, having dismissed the security that could have saved him. He let me believe it was my fault.
When I tried to leave, he brought his mistress and their son into our home, framing me as a madwoman. His mother accused me of hurting the boy, and Eli punished me by locking me in a dark, flooding room—a cruel echo of our son's drowning.
To “cure” his new heir of my son’s “ghost,” they had my baby’s grave dug up. On a yacht, Eli held me down as his mistress emptied the ashes into the ocean.
Then they left me to die in the water. When I washed ashore, his mistress was waiting to deliver the final, soul-crushing blow. She hadn't scattered the ashes. She’d flushed them down a toilet.
I didn't want to escape him. I wanted to erase him. I found a neuroscientist with an experimental procedure and made my request: wipe the last ten years. I didn't want to leave my husband; I wanted to make it so he never existed at all. He Betrayed Me, Now He Begs
C.D For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party." The Mafia Don's Regret: She Is Gone Forever
Er Duo I carried the first word I had spoken in ten years like a sacred offering, ready to surprise the man who had saved my life.
But through the crack in the study door, I heard Josiah tell his Underboss that I was nothing but a noose around his neck.
"Grace is a burden," he said, his voice cold. "I can't become Don while babysitting a mute ghost. Lexi brings power. Grace brings nothing but silence."
He chose to marry the Mafia Princess for her father's trade routes, dismissing me as wreckage.
But the true betrayal didn't happen in that office. It happened in the woods during an ambush.
With bullets flying and the mud sliding beneath us into a ravine, Josiah had to make a choice.
I was injured, trapped at the bottom. Lexi was screaming on the ridge.
He looked at me, mouthed "I'm sorry," and turned his back.
He hauled Lexi to safety to secure his alliance. He left me to die alone in the freezing mud.
I lay there in the dark, realizing the man who swore a blood oath to protect me had traded my life for a political seat.
He thought the silence would finally swallow me whole.
He was wrong.
I crawled out of that grave and vanished from his world completely.
Three years later, I returned to the city, not as his broken ward, but as a world-renowned artist.
When Josiah showed up at my gallery, looking shattered and begging for forgiveness, I didn't sign.
I looked him dead in the eye and spoke.
"The girl who loved you died in that ravine, Josiah." 
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